Carve

Carve a fortress around
My clavicles my love,
Let them be the wall
To shield you,
My flesh the rug
Upon which your
Treasured feet stand,
Do you see my arcs,
And how round they are,
I would make a golden coin
Out of them,
And buy you the world,
Can you see their height?
We are not in St. Louis,
But we could say so,
Come love,
Dig yourself in,
Dig trenches,
The battle of your day
Begins soon.